


a detective by any other name (would still be a detective)

by sophiealicemay



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Anxiety, Gen, Kaito is best bro, Oma Kokichi Is a Little Shit, what did you expect this is ndrv3 after all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiealicemay/pseuds/sophiealicemay
Summary: In spite of all odds, fierce preventative measures and his rapidly declining courage, Shuuichi enters the honours programme at his university, for being a good detective- in order become a great detective.This would be fine, more than fine really- a dream come true for many, if Shuuichi's confidence hadn't been shot in the head behind a dumpster somewhere when he was a kid and had never really recovered since. Hopefully the other 15 people in his scholarship class can help him feel a bit more comfortable. Though- Shuuichi had never been one to hope.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	a detective by any other name (would still be a detective)

**Author's Note:**

> hello~  
> this spawned from little more than my love for shuuichi. it was naught but writing practice that spiralled out of hand and some semblance of a narrative was born. also i went to university for a year. i hope you enjoy it

Shuuichi could _not_ cook. An objective fact, easily verified by the large throng of witnesses cluttering his dormitory kitchen who just watched him blow up an egg in an attempt to boil it.

Perhaps large was a bit of a gross exaggeration; it was just Momota and Amami, who’d been amiably chatting to each other over the dining room table- but en lieu of his mistakes, it felt like he was being closely scrutinised by half of the university alumni. The pair turned around in confusion at the high pitched screaming of the saucepan as steam furiously teemed out of the sides of the lid. Shuuichi panicked as molten water dribbled down the sides, jerkily yanking the lid off- which likely catalysed the impending explosion.

By sheer luck, the barrage of sharp pointy eggshells that erupted from the simmering pan missed him entirely, but a bit of… egg did end up catching the tail end of Momota’s long purple jacket. The man didn’t notice as he bolted out of his chair in shock, but splodges of yolk were dripping down his left side. Shuuichi really hoped it wouldn’t stain.

“Bloody hell Saihara, you plotting to overthrow the government with those explosives?” Momota yelped as he dragged the pan off of the ceramic hob, eyes flitting wildly as the bubbles died down to reveal the pan now empty of its contents before dumping it in the sink. He turned on the cold tap, and the metal hissed at the extreme temperature change.

“N-no!” Shuuichi spluttered and frantically moved to turn the hob’s heat off, then placed a quivering hand on his chest in a futile attempt to calm his breathing, feeling his erratic heart slamming in his ribcage- perhaps in a mix of fear and anxiety. “I just… it was an _accident!”_

Momota just let out a relieved chuckle whilst Amami laughed mutedly and stepped out of his chair to begin collect eggshells in his palm, “Oh Momota, you look like a bird just took a huge shit all over you, look its dripping down your left side!” He said amongst snickers and threw his pile in the bin.

Momota raised a maroon tinted eyebrow and searched his trails of his expensive looking jacket for the offending mess, but as he looked downwards his mop of spiky hair obscured his face so Shuuichi couldn’t see his expression to see how angry he was.

The jacket had gorgeous space-themed patterns adorning the inside, looking like some elite designer’s masterpiece and _oh_ Momota was going to be so _mad._ “I… I’m so sorry Momota! I- I swear I’ll pay to get it cleaned-”

To Shuuichi’s surprise, Momota burst out laughing as well and eyed the gooey mess with a grin before shrugging it off his shoulders to admire it closer, “Holy hell look at that, not just any shit, the yolk makes it look like a bad case of diarrhoea and- _uurggh,”_ He sniffed at it and retched, holding it far out of his nasal range, “That smells so _bad_ , god- maybe it’s a good thing it exploded Saihara, ‘cause I think it’s gone off.”

“Did you check the best before date?” Amami stretched and grabbed the carton off of the side, “The… _the_ _18 th_ what the hell Saihara, how did you even _buy_ these we’ve been at uni three days!”

Shuuichi looked over at Amami hesitantly, but his face was mostly obscured by his cap, “Umm, I got them from _Aldi?_ And I got here a day early anyway so… I guess these eggs have had a bit more time to- I dunno, marinate?”

“Dude, gross.” Momota laughed.

Stomach not yet satiated, Shuuichi ambled over to his fridge and pulled open the door; instantly rewarded with a wave of odour that was nasty enough to make him wrinkle his nose in disgust.

Appetite immediately lost, he slammed the door and leaned against in thought. That was weird, everything that furnished the very high-tech and overly-modernised kitchen seemed very new- there was no way it was faulty. Maybe he’d just bought a bunch of bad food?

“Forget about your other bomb in the fridge, Saihara?” Amami commented, resting his head in his hand with a small smile upon his lips.

“It…” Shuuichi bit out as his eyes began to reflexively water from the stench, “It does not smell good in there. I don’t think the fridges are on.”

Momota turned to look at him in alarm, and Amami lazily fidgeted out of his seat. Both hustled over to their respective fridges to ensure their cold food hadn’t gone nuclear. Momota took one deep sniff at his milk and Amami at his tofu before they both gagged and dropped the nauseating foods back into their fridge. Shuuichi winced, grabbing up Momota’s coat from where he’d discarded it on the floor and began to scoop off the egg into the bin. It really did smell foul.

“Ugh it’s all gone off too,” Amami clicked his tongue, face blasé as he rifled through his vegetable filled fridge and began tossing his groceries behind him onto the table with a scoff, “I didn’t even open this tofu- and it’s not supposed to go off till next _week_ , so why is it…”

Momota peered round the back to the long line of plug sockets that powered the range of electrical appliances in the kitchen, “How’d you figure that one Saihara? They look on to me.”

“Stick your hand in again,” Shuuichi said quietly, like he was uncomfortable giving out a command, “Its er, you’ll feel it’s not cold. Also the light’s not on- you just can’t really tell ‘cause it’s so bright in here.”

Momota did so and whistled, “Damn, I didn’t even notice. Yeah, our shit’s just been in here for days not cold or anythin’. You’re smart Saihara- what did you say you were, a detective?”

Shuuichi nodded.

Momota grinned brightly despite the situation and gave him a thumbs up, “Guess I’ll be relying on you a lot more then!”

Flustered from the very unwanted attention, Shuuichi shrank back into his high-rise collar like it in combination with his hat could fully hide him. Momota had already been so nice to him, and he didn’t want to disappoint with his sub-par skills.

And so, instead of eating food, the trio spent the afternoon sifting through mounds of rotten produce and building it all up into a precariously high pile on the table. At first, it was fun, but as the heap got bigger and bigger it stopped being so and grotesquely mutated into a looming waste of money. Once less of a third of his original food shop remained, Shuuichi collapsed into a chair and groaned loudly, head in his hands.

“I can’t believe this,” He bemoaned and shoved a stick of butter that had completely melted away from him in disgust. Shuuichi was more annoyed at himself that he had not noticed beforehand than that he no longer had anything to eat.

In what had seemed an act of good faith, the university had showered them with free pizza deliveries, takeout coupons and so on that Shuuichi hadn't even looked in his fridge until today.

Amami observed the table’s contents with his hands on his hips, lips pursed into a deliberating pout, “We’re gonna need some more bin-bags.”

Stomach gurgling wildly, Shuuichi grunted and shifted in his seat so that he could no longer see the spoiled food in front of him, and so the ache in his stomach lessened. Unfortunately, he had yet to eat that day, not having eaten breakfast since he was the meagre age of twelve and Momota was currently busy rinsing the remains of his lunch off his jacket.

Shuuichi had apologised so many times and insisted on helping clean it, but the man just waved him off with a laugh. It surprised him how easy-going Momota was.

Thankfully, Momota’s jacket was easy to clean, and when he finished, he span around to the other two who were both filtering through the putrid pile to see if there was anything they could microwave the mould off of.

“Right! Well then, no need to let this get us down, we’re just going to have to go out food shopping to buy some more!” He asserted with such a broad grin that it couldn’t help but inspire confidence in Shuuichi and worm an involuntary smile onto his face. He’d known Momota a whole three days and he could always feel the overwhelming positivity bleeding from him.

Amami pulled his phone out of his pocket and boredly eyed the time, “Not now we’re not- we’ve got to go to that scholarship programme meeting at one.”

“Oh crap yeah, I totally forgot about that.”

Like it was anticipating its cue, Shuuichi’s phone began to blare the loud obnoxious alarm that was thus far the only thing that he’d found that could get him up in the morning, set as a fifteen minute reminder for their meeting. He jumped and scrabbled around in his trousers to pull it out and silence it.

* * *

The exceptional student’s scholarship programme was curated thirty years prior by the high-chancellor of their university. However, what was once a cultivation grounds for excellence and talent devolved into brutal nepotism and bribery for the students of rich parents and bosses who had the most money and semi-decent persuasion skills.

World renowned for its notoriety in excellent education and prowess, plenitudes of students were attracted the world over and all vied for a degree that equated to what many considered a free pass to any job they wanted, as long as it was what headlined their CV. Each year, thousands of applicants vied for a spot on the famous programme, but in the end only 16 were selected.

Out of all the participants who may have been undoubtedly more qualified for the position, Shuuichi was chosen. He hoped he could be good enough to fulfil everyone’s expectations.

After lugging out a grand total of four bin-bags of putrid food down three long flights of stairs to the refuse store out back that smelt like the monkey enclosure in the zoo, Momota wrapped his arms around Shuuichi and Amami’s shoulders and shepherded them through the busy campus streets to the tallest office-looking building around back.

Surprisingly, they arrived quite early, which they likely wouldn’t have been if left to their own devices and not had Shuuichi’s every-five-minute alarm system. Eagerly, they filled out into the dimly lit studio, where five other students were each sitting on one of the sixteen chairs rounded in a circle.

This wasn’t their first meeting; they’d all congregated together in this very studio on the Monday they’d first arrived on. Although, that had been but a fifteen minute presentation by their tutor, who skirted between the 16 students as they awkwardly dawdled around the room, some trying to introduce themselves to each other.

Shuuichi had immediately been bombarded with questions by Momota, who was dragging around Amami by the heels, and they talked about how the trio would all be sharing the same floor in their building that year. That was all he remembered.

For the scholarship, Shuuichi was being recommended as a detective, a position that initially, he’d vehemently denied the first time he’d been offered a recommendation- by the chief of police no less. After being bugged about it one too many times by his uncle, he ruefully accepted with the belief he had no chance of actually getting in since his talent was pretty underwhelming.

In hindsight, he probably should have thought a bit more about the relative infamy of his uncle’s private detective agency and how that might have affected his prospects. Shuuichi and his uncle lived together in near solitude, yet people still flocked to their small house- converted office in droves to solve their petty problems and uncover crimes, and every so often they’d operate alongside the police force whenever they got particularly stumped.

Momota was registered, and Shuuichi didn’t believe him when the man told him, as an _astronaut_ of all things. Apparently, he’d (illegally) taken the aptitude test to become an astronaut with fake credentials and passed it with flying colours. Unfortunately, the brash man hadn’t thought much further ahead than that and was quickly found out and promptly removed from the course (he had said with glee like it was some sort of achievement)- though he must have impressed somebody important to end up here.

Amami was a little vague on what his scholarship was for, but he’d narrated a slew of wild, extravagant stories of how he’d journeyed across the world, and accomplished some amazing feats that made Shuuichi’s head to spin to think about- like trekking through deserts and rainforests, all alone. Amami was very humble when discussing his achievements and called himself naught but a ‘simple adventurer’, though Shuuichi thought _survivor_ would be more accurate.

The man would share a law class with Shuuichi once a week though, to his great surprise and he wondered what degree course he was on. Amami grinned eerily when asked and wouldn’t share.

Eyeing the small number of students in the room nervously, Momota jolted him out of his reverie by dragging him over to the back and seating the three of them together, tossing Shuuichi next to an ash-blonde girl whose name escaped him. The array of cute looking musical note hairpins decorating her hair didn’t help narrow it down either.

She was softly motioning to the tall, blondish-green haired girl she was sat next to on her other side, and Shuuichi shrank into his chair as not to interrupt them. The ash-blonde girl though, whirled around in her seat and bared him a wide, beautiful smile that just witnessing had his insides turn to mush.

“Hi!” She said enthusiastically and reached out for his hand. Shuuichi desperately wanted to shake it back and reached out to, but fifty thousand invasive thoughts barrelled into his head at the last second, centring perilously around the sudden clamminess of his palm that she would definitely not want to touch. He squeaked in protest when she closed the distance for him anyway and shook it excitedly.

“It’s lovely to meet you!” She beamed and peered round to peek at his face, that he was slowly lowering into what he hoped would be obscurity so she couldn’t see how red he looked, “Your name… you’re Saihara, right? I’m Akamatsu Kaede!”

Shuuichi subconsciously breathed out in relief that she supplied her name so he wouldn’t have to look like a fool when he didn’t remember it, “Y-yeah, that’s me. Saihara Shuuichi. Um, it’s really nice to meet you, Akamatsu.”

Getting the fright of his life, Momota leaned over his shoulder and stuck his thumb out with a cheesy grin Shuuichi was already familiar with, “And I’m Momota Kaito!” He puffed his chest in and looked toward the heavens, “Luminary of the Stars! One day I’m gonna be the greatest astronaut ever!”

A tall order, but such was Momota’s introduction whenever he met anybody new, and often followed by discourteous laughter the astronaut would never be offended by. Akamatsu had the decency at least to stifle her giggles with her hand and looked up at Momota cheerfully.

“Well, you’re certainly motivated! You know what? I made it here… I can do it! I’m gonna be the greatest piano player ever!” She bubbled and pumped her fists in motivation.

Momota shone so brightly he lit up the gloom of the studio; rivalling that of the stars that embellish the inside of his definitely-not-still-eggy jacket, “That’s the spirit! I know you can do it Akamatsu!”

She replied with a laugh and a little sigh, “Luminary of the Stars though? I don’t really have a cool nickname like that really- oh but people did call me Piano Freak back in high school.”

Momota looked at her thoughtfully, scrutinising her face before slapping his hand in his palm and exclaiming, “ _Nah_ , it’s a good thing! It just means that people have something to remember you by. And they were just jealous of your talent; I’d love to hear you play something one day!”

Ah, so now the music notes made sense, he looked down at her hands and noticed they weren’t manicured to the typical state of most women he knew of their age, and seemed a little rough around the nails- likely from all the piano playing she had done in order to earn her place at the university.

A pianist though, another wonderful talent likely honed by skill and practice and fierce dedication. Akamatsu was clearly incredible, way more than Shuuichi would ever be.

Shuuichi blinked and winced as Momota turned his full attention to Akamatsu, leaning on him a lot more and slightly crushing him.

Akamatsu’s smile turned coy and she blushed a little, not losing any of her confidence and still boasted her broad smile, “Of course!” Her eyes scanned the room as more people began filling in, “This is so exciting I feel like I have to play something! _Ooh,_ I know! I’d love to play _Claire de Lune_ by _Debussy!_ It would be a perfect accompaniment right now; a calming melody to help everyone to relax if they’re a bit nervous!”

Neither Momota nor Saihara knew the song but smiled and nodded anyway. Akamatsu had looked at Shuuichi with the nervous comment; it must be plain on his face how anxious he was to be here. Shuuichi let his head sink further beneath Momota’s arm in embarrassment.

On Akamatsu’s other side, the girl she’d been previously motioning to, began to incline her head towards them, “I must agree. _Debussy’s_ marvellous piece would be a magnificent entrée to our meeting here today, as it is a magnificent start to his work. It really leaves a long-lasting impact on any lucky enough to listen.”

Akamatsu turned back to the woman and her eyes seemed to sparkle, “Oh you’re _so_ right! I get so caught up in it every time I play.” She turned back to the bewildered looking men and stuck a finger out in the tall woman’s direction, “This is Toujou, we’re in the same flat and she’s amazing! She’s like some superwoman who can multitask and do anything and everything all at once!”

Toujou reclined in her chair and smiled humbly, “Please Akamatsu, you exaggerate. I cannot do _everything_. I am solely devoted towards helping others achieve their goals, but of course I cannot simply just accept _any_ request.”

“Other people’s requests? Are you a freelancer or something?” Shuuichi felt himself blurt out before he realised it and clasped a hand over his mouth.

Chuckling, Toujou shook her head, “No no, nothing like that. I am simply a maid, though I have offered my services to many influential people, performing a vast range of demands over time.”

“See! Superwoman! She’s worked for celebrities!”

“ _Wow,”_ Momota marvelled and tilted his head in what looked like awe to Shuuichi, but he couldn’t really see since Momota was now fully leaning on him, and the detective’s arms were growing weaker.

He must have accidentally voiced his discomfort, as Akamatsu realised and sternly hauled Momota off of him, to which the bigger man chuckled and apologised before lounging back into his chair to talk to Amami and the blue haired girl he was sitting next to. Shuuichi nervously continued speaking with Akamatsu and Toujou before they were all hushed into silence by their tutor.

The gathering lasted for about an hour, though it went over a little when interrupted by one of the girl’s religious break to pray. Shuuichi actually managed to pay attention and listen this time, and learned a substantial amount about the fifteen people he would be spending the majority of the next year with.

Frighteningly, their ice-breaker was an introduction challenge where they had to give their name, reason for scholarship, major, and an interesting fact about themselves not covered by their scholarship. Shuuichi managed it, just, but it was very difficult when everyone in the room was staring at him and he felt like his insides were aflame.

There were some very odd figures in the group, such as a Yumeno girl who stoutly declared she was a mage, an Iruma who proclaimed herself the world’s greatest girl genius and an Ouma who claimed he secretly ruled the world via his evil organisation- which was by far the oddest one. Though, Amami also teased he’d conquered the world via his exploration of it, so maybe he was being a bit quick to judge?

When the time was up, Shuuichi’s stomach gurgled again, and was painfully reminded of his malnutrition- and wondered again what the problem was with their fridges. The entire class was residing in the same building, just separated over five floors in non-equal proportions. There was a chance that maybe others had experienced the same issue? He desperately tried to raise his voice, but the longer he was drowned out by chatter the more his words melted in his throat and caught there like honey.

Thankfully, Akamatsu noticed and looked at him with concern, tugging at his jacket, “Hey, Saihara, you alright? You looked like you just swallowed an egg.”

Shuuichi grimaced at the egg comment, “No I’m just a bit hungry. For some reason none of our fridges were working in our kitchen today so er, all of our food went a bit funny. I was just um, wondering if it happened to anyone else.”

Akamatsu’s eyes widened and she started chewing her own tongue in deliberation. She turned around and tagged Toujou, as well as another freakishly tall person called Shinguuji who had long brown hair and a face mask, mumbling to them the question he’d asked her.

Shuuichi felt very out of sorts until Momota, Amami, and the blue haired girl called Shirogane came up behind him. Momota patted him on the back in a very comforting gesture, and Shuuichi couldn’t help turning around and smiling.

“Saihara, yo, we were just thinkin’ about heading out somewhere for some food ‘n shit,” Momota said lazily and itched the back of his neck.

“As in… go out for lunch?” He questioned.

“Yeah why not, ‘t’s not like you’ve eaten anything today.”

Shuuichi flushed and sank into his collar, hat obscuring his eyes from view.

“Ooh,” Akamatsu said and crossed her arms, “I could totally murder a McDonald’s right now.” She turned to Saihara and flicked his cap, and he yelped in surprise, “Don’t hide behind that silly, no-one can see your face. Yeah you were right, apparently the entire building had a blackout a few nights ago early in the morning. According to superwoman at least who knows everything.”

“That is correct,” Toujou supplied, seemingly acquiescing to her new nickname, “At precisely 1:29am on Monday morning there was a power surge originating in flat four which caused the building to temporarily power down. Luckily, many of the appliances have either backup power or are able to restart after a fault- but the refrigerators did not.”

Toujou spoke in a very posh tone; it made Shuuichi’s head spin.

“Ah, that’ll do it,” Momota said, distracted, and craned his neck to eye one of the other girls in the corner who was all on her lonesome. If Shuuichi remembered right here name was Harukawa, and she was very quiet, “…Which flat was it again, four? Wonder what they were doin’.”

“Regardless,” Shinguuji cut in, eyes flitting to everyone around him in a way that slightly unnerved Shuuichi, “We should evacuate the premises. It seems the tutor is becoming rather irate with our continued presence.”

“Yeah sure, Maccies sounds great. Hold on,” Momota’s voice was distant as he made his way over to Harukawa and asked her if she wanted to join them. She glared at him and replied with a rather rude no, and the group laughed lightly as Momota moseyed back with his tail between his legs.

* * *

Turns out, the rather sizable city that boasted the university’s campus featured a grand total of eleven McDonalds which all varied in size and number of floors, so it didn’t take very long for the group of seven to find one.

“Is there much you can eat here Amami?” Shuuichi gestured to the adventurer, as they all walked through the doors. Amami had been unfairly outed as a vegetarian a day prior via an incident of Momota’s blistering outrage at him turning down a pepperoni pizza.

Amami gave a small smile as his pale blue eyes trailed up and down the list, “Usually I just get fries. I haven’t been here in a while- but in America they had this veggie-wrap thing that I kind of liked. Maybe it’ll have made the journey over here.”

Shirogane pulled at the tight-fitting clothing around her waist apprehensively and bit her lip, “Mm… maybe I shouldn’t have anything.

Thinking it must’ve been a joke, Akamatsu prodded her in the cheek, “You’re as thin as a stick! There’s no _way_ you need to be watching your weight, you’re fine as it is!”

She received a dubious look in reply, “Uhmm, was that a compliment? Ah, but I need to stay the same proportions as my mannequins to ensure my cosplay fits perfectly. Do they do salad here? Will it still be coated in oil?”

Ah that was right, Shirogane was a seamstress wasn’t she. She designed and created her own clothing, more often from different fictional characters than not. Cosplay was the word, if Shuuichi was not mistaken.

“You barely even wear them though! It can’t hurt to have something like this every so often!” Akamatsu turned around and caught Shuuichi staring, “What do you think Saihara? She’s got nothing to worry about has she?”

Nervously, Shuuichi lowered his head until he could only see the girl’s shoes from under his hat. This was definitely not a conversation he wanted be a part of. His uncle hadn’t taught him much about girls, but lesson number three had been not to ever-ever-under any circumstances mention their weight less he die a painful death.

“Um…er…”

Thankfully, Toujou befitting her superwoman nickname comes and saves him from what he had convinced himself to be his impending doom, “Whilst the fat and carbohydrate content is considerably greater in cuisines of this popular fast food chain, the calorific content needn’t be something you should worry about Shirogane, due to your already much truncated nutrient intake.”

Shirogane pouted, “Okay so I might be on a diet. You make it really difficult though with your… gourmet breakfasts that you whip up from nothing every morning Toujou.”

Toujou just smiled as Shinguuji leaned over from his place in the queue, “Indeed, I must say they are quite delightful. We are blessed that Toujou was intuitive enough to stock her own miniature-fridge beforehand so that we did not go without this morning.”

As it turned out, Akamatsu, Shirogane, Shinguuji and Toujou were all in the same flat on the floor below them. Momota had given the Shinguuji a consoling pat on the back and his _sincere condolences_ that sounded more like hapless lampooning, but Shinguuji didn’t seem bothered. He apparently preferred female company over male company, and Shuuichi decided he didn’t want to further think about what that could mean.

They originally planned to walk back to the flat and eat their food, but the weather had other ideas; skies previously pregnant with rain had opened their floodgates and they were forced to eat inside.

Instead of participating in the conversation, even though he was dragged into the seat next to Akamatsu, Shuuichi found if comfortable to just listen to his peers talk amongst themselves. Apparently the blackout had occurred the previous day, very early in the morning- thus their food had been melting for well over twenty-four hours. Apparently Momota had drank his milk that morning and he began to turn very green.

Toujou had noticed a day prior when ritual cleaning the kitchen. They’d lazily ignored the issue in favour of demolishing the free _Domino’s_ they been sent that night and forgotten all about it that morning.

Suddenly he was nudged in the side and he turned to see Shinguuji blinking at him.

“You seem to operate more as an observer in these group conversations as well,” He said smoothly and rubbed at his mask with his index finger like he was thinking about something, “If I may ask, for you… be it simple nervousness? Or do you deem it more comfortable to disengage from idle chatter and listen to the other’s thoughts?”

Shuuichi blinked, unsure where all this was coming from, “Sorry, um, Shinguuji- was it?”

“That would be me, yes.”

“You… you said you were an anthropologist? That means that you study human behaviours, cultures and stuff like that, right? Is that why you… aren’t saying much?”

Shinguuji chuckled deeply, “That is true, though do not think you can easily distract me from your indecision to answer, though I suppose that reveals your answer anyway.”

Shuuichi audibly gulped and lowered his head until his long bangs grazed the table.

“But… yes. I find it quite scintillating to partake in a conversation from the outside. Human beings are such fascinating creatures, and you will discover that just listening and watching their mannerisms whilst the converse can reveal a lot about a person.”

Shuuichi tore his gaze away from Shinguuji’s intensive stare, his eyes tracking the way that Akamatsu twirled her finger in her one flyaway strand of hair of hers when talking about Piano, or how Momota thumbed his goatee whenever he thought he was being flattered.

“I know,” He said solemnly. “I used to people watch with my uncle when he was interviewing suspects for a case.”

Tilting his head, Shinguuji looked fairly intrigued for someone who hid behind a mask, “… you were the detective were you not? I suppose finding hidden quirks in a person’s façade must be second nature to you too. Forgive me. I did not mean any offence by it, I simply could not contain my curiosity.”

Shuuichi raised his head and let a small smile play on his lips, “Ah, don’t worry about it. You’re right I do sometimes choose to listen. Sometimes it’s more because I don’t have anything interesting to say.”

Shinguuji just chuckled again, and muttered almost inaudibly, “Somehow… I doubt that very much.”

Akamatsu eventually realised Shuuichi was trying to become one with the chair after Shinguuji excused himself to use the toilet, and cheerfully asked him a few questions about being a detective. She seemed rather proficient at taking control of a conversation and managed to keep it afloat even if Shuuichi wasn’t the best at replying.

She was rather admirable, he hoped he could one day have the confidence she wielded so well.

* * *

The following day, Akamatsu demonstrated her tremendous leadership skills by successfully rounding up all sixteen students to collectively make the unholy pilgrimage to the supermarket to buy more food.

The supermarket, surprisingly not Aldi this time wasn’t very full for a Wednesday afternoon. Immediately upon arrival, the sixteen all milled into the store and dispersed across the many aisles. Shuuichi was of course as nervous as ever and latched onto Akamatsu, who had been elated to have a shopping partner.

It took him a whole three minutes to conclude that the pianist was one of the less conservative diets in their cast and talked Shuuichi’s ear off about nutrition strategies and filled her trolley to the brim with a variety of very luxurious looking foods he wasn’t sure he’d even _heard_ of.

Shuuichi’s list was small and unadventurous, the fear of monetary loss hanging worryingly over his head. He just wanted the essentials, like milk and eggs and bread, and somehow found himself in a rather deep discussion with Shirogane about the presences of fats in dairy products he never thought he’d have.

Finally deciding on the middle option of _semi_ -skimmed milk, Shuuichi reached up to grab a carton when a hurricane swept past him and abruptly knocked him to the floor. He yelped as he hit the cold linen pretty hard, and quickly moved to shield himself as the almost the entire dairy aisle collapsed in on itself and splattered everywhere.

He gasped in horror as he surveyed the disaster that had been left in the wake of the dangerous whirlwind, the carton he held in his hand suddenly a rare commodity. He was so distracted by the mess that when a shadow loomed over him, he jumped right out of his skin.

Iidabashi, the robotics engineer with spiky white hair and a kind disposition, had his hand outstretched to Shuuichi in a bid to help him up. Shuuichi grabbed it and was hauled to his feet, but couldn’t quite keep himself from gawping at Iidabashi with wide eyes.

“My deepest apologies Saihara,” He said politely, face pulled up in obvious concern, “I hope you are mostly unharmed?”

“Um, yes thank you, I’m fine.”

Iidabashi breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the disaster on the floor in dismay, “That is wonderful news. I was afraid that you had been injured, less covered in these now wasted dairy products after that… idiot came rushing through.”

“No, I was just knocked over, though I think my trousers are a bit soggy,” Shuuichi said and analysed the state of his clothing. That idiot? “Ah, thank you for helping me up Iidabashi, you are very kind.”

Iidabashi simpered and rubbed the back of his head, seemingly embarrassed, “It’s nothing, er- but please call me Kiibo, I dislike being referred to by my last name.”

He had said that when he’d introduced himself hadn’t he. Shuuichi felt his face burn at his negligence and hid even further beneath his hat, “S-sorry.”

“ _Wooooow_ Kii-boy, way to be insensitive!” A mirthful voice taunted from the front of the aisle, and it demanded the attention of all who heard it. It was Ouma, the small boy with wild purple hair who claimed to rule the world, and he was leaning precariously against his shopping trolley, pride of place in the middle of all the chaos; a wicked grin on his face.

“Kokichi!” Kiibo barked angrily and crossed his arms, affronted, “Look at what you’ve done! You have now destroyed _two_ aisles in this supermarket and you knocked Saihara over! Apologise to him!”

Ouma cackled and wheeled his trolley messily through the puddles on the floor towards the pair, and leered at Kiibo, “Awww Kii-baby don’t cryy, there’s-” his eyes darted over to look at Shuuichi, “-no point crying over spilt milk!”

Kiibo seethed with outrage, and made a move to grab at Ouma so he wouldn’t race off again. Shuuichi blinked and looked down again at the milk that was pooling around his feet and suppressed a giggle, not because it was funny but more for the catharsis of the situation.

Ouma however, seemed to be rather observant, “See, _see!_ It _was_ funny Kii-boy Saihara laughed, now get off of me before I call _security_ on- ah, abuse! _Abuse!”_

Kiibo groaned in despair and released the wriggling man, bending over his own trolley as Ouma began to rattle them together loudly, laughing childishly. People were starting to stare.

Shuuichi padded out of the puddle and regarded Ouma with careful eyes. He was like a little-man child, teasing and playing with Kiibo, calling him names, acting rather immaturely. His expression was bright, and seemed to take delight in the other man’s anguish as he paraded around the aisle in his ostentatious clothing and boisterous attitude.

He’d also noticed how familiar the pair had been with each other. Ouma had been mocking with his nicknames that Kiibo didn’t refute against, and Kiibo had also called him Kokichi. It implied that the pair knew each other in some way, since Shuuichi wouldn’t dream of familiarity with his classmates.

Shuuichi didn’t even notice Ouma was in front of him until he was right in his face, still grinning, “Zoning out on me Saihara? How could you possibly ignore me? I’m hurt~!” He wailed and tears began to form in his eyes, bottom lip wobbling into a pout.

Blinking, and very startled by the way the man was suddenly right in his face, Shuuichi had little choice but to look into the man’s eyes, a deepish purple that bored into him with such an intensity that he felt he would faint. He spluttered, very flustered and looked away.

“Uh… um.”

Ouma smirked and leaned back, seemingly satisfied with his torment of Shuuichi, “That was a lie. I’m not _really_ upset, I just felt like messing with you. Don’t be such a wet-wipe like Kii-baby over here, he’s waaay boring!”

He twirled around and plonked a carton of milk in his trolley, before sidling over to repeatedly kick Kiibo in the shin, “C’mon Kii-boy I’m _boored._ Race you to the cereal aisle!” He exclaimed before hurtling away, laughing raucously as she scootered down the middle before attempting to round a corner and colliding with Amami.

Kiibo yelped, spluttered another apology to Shuuichi before carefully wheeling himself over to what seemed to be the third catastrophe of the last five minutes. Ouma was wailing loudly, flailing on his back now somehow buried under a collection of cereal boxes as Amami looked on in amusement- and made no attempt to help him.

Shuuichi took the opportunity to quickly leave but realised that his hands were now empty. Somehow, Ouma had taken the carton out of his hands without noticing. _How had he done that?_

Akamatsu seemed to finally realise she had lost her little tag along and came back around the corner, eyes blowing impossibly wide at the scene, “What’s with all the nois- Saihara?! What… what _happened,_ why is there milk all over the-”

In a mix of lingering confusion and the panic he could feel rising under his skin now the oddities were finally registering in his brain, Shuuichi whirled around and ushered her out of the aisle, “Don’t- just… move on. You don’t want to know.”

Apparently, Ouma’s cries, Kiibo’s frustrated shouts and Amami’s uncontained giggles were enough to convince her and she allowed Shuuichi to cart her away from the area.

Thankfully, with significantly less incidents later once Ouma was apprehended by Momota and a big surly looking man called Gokuhara who didn’t seem to want to restrain Ouma at all, the shopping trip concluded.

Shuuichi only had one bag, and offered to help Akamatsu with her three, but the girl just pumped her fists and strong armed her way back to the dorms. Shuuichi somehow ended carrying _Momota’s_ shopping- who insisted on trying to talk with Harukawa again as she was trailing behind everyone by herself. He lasted longer than last time, twenty five seconds instead of eighteen, until she kicked him in the shin and promptly crossed the road.

“Aren’t you trying a bit hard?” Amami said nonchalantly, shaking his hair again as he seemed to be covered head to toe in flour as a trophy of his interaction with a rather exuberant ‘supreme leader’. He didn’t really seem annoyed buy this fact, finding it more humorous than anything, “I think she’s made it clear she isn’t interested.”

Momota stroked his goatee and Shuuichi cursed Shinguuji under his breath that he now couldn’t look at his new friends without subconsciously trying to analyse them, “I don’t mean anything bad by it. It’s jus’ she’s all by herself y’know? She doesn’t talk to anyone or even try to make friends. I guess she's just a little shy and I wan’ her to open up to us all a bit!”

Shuuichi looked over at Harukawa, who was staring daggers at the concrete pavement, “I… don’t really think she’s shy Momota, maybe just a little less… sociable.”

“Well, then we gotta help her be more sociable!” He declared with another broad grin.

He was set on this it seemed.

In Shuuichi’s peripherals, he could see Akamatsu slowing down so she could join in with their conversation, “I think Momota’s right! Maybe she’s just feeling a little nervous about moving here, to such a big city and prestigious university. We should help her break out of her shell, I’m sure Harukawa is a lovely girl.”

“Please, don’t encourage him,” Amami said flatly.

Shuuichi couldn’t suppress his smile. For the first time since arriving at university his chest felt light in a somewhat freeing way he decided he definitely liked.

Akamatsu turned her head to look at him and grinned, “Hey, I can see your smile when not hiding under your hat like that. You should look up more, Saihara, have more confidence in yourself! The world around you is a much brighter place than the ground is, you just gotta take the plunge and go for it!”

Something bloomed in his chest, and Shuuichi raised his head, smiling a little wider.

**Author's Note:**

> i also love Amami even if he wasn't around very long. oops spoils.
> 
> for right now this is all i got on this. i finished it about a month ago, and i will admit i have a vague idea for how a multichaptered fic could pan out- but only really that. vague plot points and no real idea on how to continue, so for now i'm sticking with a one-shot. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading


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